The Feeling of Belonging
by Yvanna Silverstream
Summary: Sometimes, guilt can be overpowering, but there's more than one way to vent it out.  Rated M for a reason


So, it's been a long time since I've been able to update anything, like I said, my muse is bitchy and school doesn't cut me much slack either :( But, somewhere along the line, in addition to my Anders addiction, I seem to be sporting a knack for our favorite broody rogue, Nathaniel Howe. I totally blame Lisa and Jen for this little thing that slithered its way out of my head. I know, I know, Lisa, you'll say it's not dignified. I never said I'm proud of it ^^But still, I hope I made a few Nate fangirls happy tonight. :D

Please keep in mind that this is the first time I'm trying to write something like this, so it's more like a cartload of fluff than *cough* what it was meant to be ^^ Criticism is very welcome (and for the love of the Maker, please tell me if I'm artfully embarrassing myself by writing this!)

Hugs,  
Yvanna

* * *

_**Somewhere to Belong**_

_Nathaniel had been pacing up and down the sodding corridor for at least half an hour. Ever since he had spoken to Delilah, guilt had been hanging over him like the blade of a dagger. _

_Commander Amell had only been a scapegoat for all the accusations he could not bear to throw at the man—no, the memory of the man he knew as his father. Even after she had spared his life, given him a chance to redeem himself within the Wardens, still he had blamed her for everything. It was easier, at first, to lay it all at her feet. But Maker help him it was getting harder and harder to keep it that way. And she wasn't even trying! _

_When she talked to him, like she did with all of her band of misfits, he couldn't help but notice that she never tried to change his mind. She never tried to prove her righteousness or his father's guilt or any of that nonsense. Instead she listened; more than once he had found himself telling her more than he intended to, revealing bits and pieces of himself without even realizing it. He also wondered a couple of times if she had cast some sort of spell on him; she __**did**__ know blood magic after all. _

_Those thoughts were put to rest soon enough, though. She was far too compassionate a person for that. Besides, it's not like she'd __**need**__ any sort of magic. She could talk down almost anyone from anything, starting with Oghren and ending with himself. He could sympathize though; those forest green eyes had, more than once, stopped him in his tracks enough to listen, and if one Maker-blessed word managed to slither its way out of her in that velvet voice, he was lost. The Maker surely despised him. _

_Frustrated out of his wits, his fist reflexively struck the nearest stone wall, the pain venting out at least some of his self loathing. When did he even begin to think of her that way?_

_On the other side of the wooden door, Elina could hear him pacing, loud and clear. The footsteps would drift away for an exact amount of four seconds, then return, a sense of purpose clinging to every stride, but would lose their determination once they reached her doorstep. Amused, she tiptoed over to the door, abruptly opening it to find the broody rogue with his fingers curled in a fist, ready to knock but not quite. The blank look on his face made her smile for some reason, as she stepped aside, allowing him in. She wasn't about to hear his confession in the hallway, propriety be damned!_

_Nathaniel blinked, but stepped inside and proceeded to pace around the room. Elina closed the door and leaned against it, crossing her arms over her chest, a tiny smirk fighting for its place on her lips. She had never seen the calculated, composed Nathaniel Howe this vexed. _

_She knew that she probably shouldn't be laughing; she had seen the confusion and the pain he harbored, hidden just beneath the smooth marble surface. She had hoped that, eventually, he'd come, that he'd open up to her, let her help him. It seemed she had played her cards right after all._

'_Commander, I think I owe you an apology.' his husky baritone snapped her from her musing. His tone had a note of finality to it, one that she was content to ignore, up until the point where steely grey eyes met forest green, making her breath catch in her throat._

'_When you conscripted me, I was set out to redeem my father's name. Now, I'm not so sure it's worth it. I blamed you, forced myself to see the monster my father painted you to be.' he stopped, drawing a shaky breath, choosing his words carefully._

'_I would dare ask for your forgiveness, Commander.'_

'_Nathaniel,' she began softly, 'you don't owe me anything. I understand your reasons and—'_

'_**What**__ reasons Elina?' Her eyes widened a shade when he drawled out her name. 'What excuse is there for the way I have behaved?' In two lengthy strides, he was before her, trapping her between his arms, half pinning her against the door. 'What excuse does my __**father**__ have?' he sneered, more to himself than her._

_His face a hair's breadth away from hers, there was a broken look in his eyes as he stared down at her that made her heart jump in her throat. Whether in fear or something else, she could not tell. She faintly recalled Anders teasing her regarding what he called a "soft spot for damaged goods". After a few agonizingly longs seconds, Nathaniel lowered his gaze, closing his eyes, simply unable to hold her stare anymore._

'_I could have done something.' he murmured defeated. 'I could have stopped him.'_

_On their own accord, her hands tilted his face, her fingertips only slightly brushing against his temple, gently coaxing him to look at her._

'_I'm not going to defend what he did, Nate.' she felt her arms quake around her at the use of his nickname. No one dared call him that. 'Some things just can't be forgiven. But he was your father. You looked up to him. You believed in him. He used to tell you stories, he used to be a regular father, once. Remember him by that. Remember the good in him.'_

_There was an unfathomable sincerity to her words that very nearly tore him apart. Faith glinted in her eyes; faith in __**him**__. Compassion, understanding, there were so many things swimming in the emerald depths of her eyes that he did not expect. It rattled him to his very core that this woman, who was hunted by his father, and that he himself had sought to murder, had enough room in her heart for the broken pieces he had to offer. _

_The knowledge drained him, leaving him battered and bruised, too tired to even hold himself up anymore. He all but crumbled into her arms, his troubled mind finding refuge in the crook of her neck, forehead resting on her shoulder. To see him o broken, the fabled pride of the Howe gone before her eyes... it made her forget. For a moment, she could let herself forget. She had forgiven long ago. His arms quivered around her, losing their strength and sliding down to wrap around her waist, clutching her to him like a last lifeline._

_It seemed so much easier to let go in her arms, to lose himself in her embrace. Her hands found their way into his hair, stroking at the nape of his neck. Irrational as it may have been, she longed to ease his pain, to remind him that he was not alone. Slowly, he raised his head to meet her eyes, expecting disdain, pity, maybe even empathy. He found none. Instead, there was a warmth to her gaze that took his breath away. Unthinking, Elina leaned in, pressing her lips to his in a tender, fluid gesture of comfort. There was no greed, no lust to her touch. Only affection, expressed in likely the only way she knew how. Nathaniel's head was spinning. True, he had wanted her, no man in his right minds wouldn't, but the way that simple kiss seemed to make his heart throb out of his chest suggested something else entirely. Nevertheless, he found himself responding in kind. Some tiny voice of sense in his mind managed to break through the haze of passion that enveloped his senses, telling him that maybe he bit off more than he could chew, that maybe he should leave now, before he complicated things by becoming involved with his __**Commander**__ for Andraste's sake!_

_All one of these thoughts were wiped away when she gasped into the kiss, leaving her mouth a treasure open for the plundering. His hands roamed over her sides, along her ribs, settling on her hips in a possessive grip, offering him a much deeper understanding of her body than his eyes ever could have. _

_The silent hums of pleasure vibrating from her raised his flesh in goose bumps, effectively snapping one of the few strings that still reigned in his control. On a whim, he ground his hips into her, causing Elina to break the kiss, lolling her head back against the wall in a panting frenzy, revealing the ivory column of her throat. _

_Once, he might have thought this the perfect opportunity to wring the life out of that graceful, marble-like neck, but his heart sagged heavily at the prospect of even a scratch on her dainty body. Seizing the opportunity differently, Nathaniel assaulted the soft flesh, starting with her pulse, relishing in the feel of her lifeblood fluttering underneath his lips, then trailing blazing kisses all the way down to her collarbone, stopping here and there to nip at the fair, unblemished skin. Pressing her heaving chest flush to him, he hitched up her robes, taking his sweet time skimming his way from her ankles, her calf, all the way to her upper thigh with murderously gentle touches. _

_His nimble rogue fingers made quick work of the laces of her bodice, loosening its hold on her even further. Meanwhile, her hands busied themselves with the tedious task of unbraiding his hair. She had always wondered just how long it could be to get that much braiding out of it. Once untied, she gently raked her nails over his scalp, relishing in the newfound freedom. The action brought his self-control dangerously close to snapping. Never stopping his ministrations but unable to contain himself any longer, he all but ripped the shirt off him, hooking her legs on his hips. Elina hummed in approval as her hands splayed themselves over his back, a sweet shiver quaking her body when she felt the muscles rippling under her touch, just beneath his skin. _

_The Commander's quarters may have been large enough to be practical, but at the moment, it was the most atrocious aversion to practicality Nathaniel had ever come across. Nothing could happen fast enough for him anymore. Not with a woman like __**that**__ nibbling on __**his**__ earlobe and mewling __**his **__name in __**his**__ arms. Clothing mostly forgotten in one part of the room or the other, he slithered on top of her with that same predatory grace that made her bones water since she had first seen him fight._

_He was almost ashamed of his lack of control; he wanted to draw this out, sweetly, sensually, to show her exactly what he had been dreaming about for the last tormenting weeks, what kept him up at night and running during the day, what chased even the darkspawn nightmares from his mind. But to attempt it right now would surely kill him. _

_It had been too long, far too long since he had done this, since he had even been close enough to a woman that could elicit such a reaction from him. But the way Elina so desperately tugged at him, shamelessly moaning his name proved that she was no better for the ear in that matter. The last thread of his control snapped violently when he fully eased himself inside of her, the velvet heat of her depths around him being too much for him to bear. _

_Her nails raked across his sides as she met him thrust for thrust, teeth affectionately nipping at his earlobe while he murmured sweet nothings into her ear, working them both into a panting frenzy. For one endless moment they both hung on the brink, bodies stiffened in anticipation, clinging to each other. In that one moment in time, he was redeemed. _

_All the suffering that had gotten in the way before was washed away in that single purifying moment, in the calm before the storm, before they both tumbled over the edge, Nathaniel, pressing her flush against him, touching her as much as he could, as if she would slip away from him any moment now. Her final cries of pleasure were lost in another searing kiss that turned her spine to water._

_Virtually collapsing over her in the afterglow, his ear pressed to her chest, he listened to her raging heartbeat as it slowed down. The whole keep could shatter at that very moment and he couldn't be arsed to move. Here, he had found what he had been seeking all those long years in the Free Marches; understanding, companionship, a family that accepted him for who he was. And most of all, he found that even for him, a traitor and an exile, there was still a pair of eyes who could see him for far more than that._


End file.
